


Everyone Knows It's Cool Except You

by OwenToDawn



Series: Transcend [1]
Category: FANXY CHILD (Band), Show Me the Money (Korea TV)
Genre: Angst with a Hopeful Ending, Catholic Guilt, Closeted Character, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Making Out, Mutual Pining, Recreational Drug Use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-06
Updated: 2020-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-12 21:55:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23033293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OwenToDawn/pseuds/OwenToDawn
Summary: Byungyoon realizes he's in love with his best friend while making out with someone else in a foreign country
Relationships: Lee Byeongyoon | BewhY/Ryu Sungmin | C Jamm, Lee Byungyoon | BewhY/Cheon Seunghyun | Millic
Series: Transcend [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1675975
Comments: 4
Kudos: 20





	Everyone Knows It's Cool Except You

**Author's Note:**

> I was planning on writing something completely different but then I thought: hey what if you write more pics about BewhY feeling guilty and here we are
> 
> Eventually I'll write a proper BewhY/C Jamm fic where they get together instead of just pining from a distance. I hope you like this one. Comments are loved. 
> 
> Title from Temptation by BewhY which is honestly the song that inspired this whole thing

Byungyoon knocks on Seunghyun’s hotel door, sniffing a few times as he does so. Despite what Seunghyun has said about lighting up after the show, he doesn’t smell the usual stench of weed he’s come to associate with Sungmin. The door opens and Byungyoon slips inside. The room is small, but the view is nice, looking out over the back courtyard of the hotel and the city of LA sprawled out before them. Seunghyun collapses into the seat next to the open window and a tall lamp before picking up the blunt from the ashtray. He’s dressed in a t-shirt and the hotel robe and slippers, hair wet from the shower and leaving damp spots on the shoulders.

“Why’d you message me? You know I don’t smoke right?” Byungyoon asks as he takes a seat across from in the office chair by the desk.

Seunghyun sticks his head out the window and exhales the smoke before setting the blunt down in the tray. Byungyoon watches as the smoke wafts out the window and into the dark night air. “Of course I do. I _do _pay attention to my friends.”

Byungyoon’s stomach flips at the words. It’s been years since his rise to fame, but the idea that industry professionals not only want to work with him but consider him a friend makes him feel blessed in a way he can’t articulate. “So why did you invite me here?”

"Everyone else went out to get wasted. I figured you’d want some company in the post-concert come down. It’s worse in a foreign country and you’ve been on your own most nights from what I’ve seen,” Seunghyun says.

He’s still not looking at Byungyoon as he picks the blunt up and takes another deep drag. Byungyoon watches him hold it in his mouth before he exhales through his nose, halfway leaning out the window again to spare Byungyoon any of the second hand smoke. Seunghyun isn’t wrong. The loneliness after a big show is normal. It happens often enough that after parties are common for performers around the world, a desperate bid to keep the energy going so that when they’re finally alone in their room again, it’s not as harsh of a drop as going from the stage to silence.

But Byungyoon rarely participates. It’s not that he’s tempted by the alcohol and now that they’re in the states, the drugs, but it _does_get boring sometimes when you’re the only one thinking clearly. It leaves him feeling lonely in a worse way.

This already feels different than that though, even if he can tell from the way Seunghyun’s pupils look that he’s definitely high already. It’s just the two of them. It’s intimate like sitting on a rooftop with Sungmin at the end of a long day. He doesn’t feel like he’s been invited just out of politeness. Seunghyun doesn’t do people favors like that. Byungyoon knows him well enough at this stage to know Seunghyun is incapable of doing something he doesn’t want to. It’s something Byungyoon admires about him.

“It is lonelier over here,” Byungyoon says.

“Good weed helps,” Seunghyun says. He smiles at Byungyoon and sets the blunt down.

“Was that part of the life changing experience when you studied here?” Byungyoon asks, only half joking. Seunghyun is notoriously tight-lipped about those months and Byungyoon has yet to figure out if it’s for a reason or just to fuck with people.

“Partly, yeah,” Seunghyun says. “The other part was…” He trails off as he looks back out the window and takes another drag. The wind makes the curtains stir and brush Byungyoon’s arm, the light touch making him shiver. “I don’t want to make shit weird.”

“You’re already getting high in front of me, how much weirder could you make it?” Byungyoon asks.

Seunghyun _giggles_, the sound light and soft as he sets the smoldering remains of the blunt down. “Sorry. I know you’re not naïve. I just...” He shakes his head. “I kissed a guy for the first time here. That’s what was life-changing.”

Byungyoon stares. He knows that people aren’t stereotypes – it’s something he’s had to fight against after all. But Seunghyun is one of the last people he’d suspect. Maybe he is naïve. “It’s not weird. I wouldn’t have guessed it but I’m not…uncomfortable.” He pauses a moment, unsure if he should continue. Seunghyun has been honest with him though, with something much bigger than what he’s thinking. “I’m tired of people thinking I’m going to judge them for things like that.”

“Can you really blame us?” Seunghyun asks.

And no. No, he can’t, because he’s found himself in too many confessional booths with his palms and neck covered in sweat. His list of sins is longer than he’d like. But he doesn’t ever stop trying to do the right thing, even if people think it makes him boring or lame or whatever other insult they feel like spitting at him out of jealousy. For him, that includes not holding people in contempt for things they can’t control.

Of course, that’s something that sets him apart from many who share his faith. He’s not blind to that fact.

“No, I know,” he says. “But that’s not who I am or what God asks of me. I’m not here to deliver his judgment.”

“Do you think there is a judgment to be made against me?” Seunghyun asks.

Byungyoon stares at the smoldering blunt in the ashtray, watches the smoke rise and be whisked away by a gentle wind and the light of the remaining burning ash flicker. “I don’t know. I hope not.”

It’s not just because he doesn’t want to judge his friends or make them feel better either. He’s been in that confessional booth about his own feelings more than once. Feelings that dog his thoughts late at night, feelings that threaten to consume him alive if he considers entertaining them for longer than a few seconds. But even that feels different here now. The same ocean is only a few miles away but it’s the other side from what he’s used to. A different world. Not that God cares about anything like country lines or location when it comes to his all-knowing power. Still.

“You’re thinking real hard over there,” Seunghyun says.

“There’s something I’ve always wanted to do,” Byungyoon says, eyes still fixed on the ashtray. Some part of him is terrified to meet Seunghyun’s eyes. “The thing is, so many of the sins I avoid, I have no interest in engaging in to begin with so it’s not that hard to resist. There’s no temptation there.”

Seunghyun’s fingers trail over the glass of the ashtray, sliding along the rim with a careless touch. Byungyoon wets his lips, trying to think past the exhaustion of jet lag and a concert, but all he can think of is the delicate way Seunghyun’s fingers slip along the glass, nonchalant but somehow still careful. It makes him think of fingers along the inside of his arm and a whisper.

_“Even if we felt the same, it wouldn’t matter. You aren’t ready.”_

They’d been spoken against his ear hours before a court date against the front door of his own apartment. They’ve bothered him ever since, even if nothing has changed about his relationship with Sungmin since then and they’ve managed to stay best friends.

“Where’s the temptation?” Seunghyun asks. “If it’s not the booze or the drugs or the greed.”

Byungyoon wants nothing more than to crack a joke, something that makes Seunghyun giggle so it can cut the tension that is choking the air. But he’s already come this far. He lets the words fall out of him.

“I’m in love with someone and if I do something about it, then why even try to keep living my life the right way?”

Seunghyun’s fingers go still on the ashtray. They slide forward and finish grinding the blunt into the glass, extinguishing the last of the flame that had been clinging to the edges.

“Living the way you want to is what the devil tries to tempt you with, right?” Seunghyun asks. Before Byungyoon can say anything, he continues. “I pay attention to your lyrics. Even if you don’t judge us, you judge yourself.”

“I have to,” Byungyoon says.

“You really don’t,” Seunghyun says.

“I do. Alcohol is not a temptation, and neither are drugs, but that…that is the temptation I have to face. I have to resist it,” Byungyoon says.

“You can’t have one good thing?”

The fingers leave the ashtray and before Byungyoon can process why that’s a bad thing, they’re skating along his jaw instead, tilting his head up as Seunghyun stands above him. He knows Seunghyun well enough now to not usually be intimidated by his stare. He’s seen it crack into laughter too often. Now though, he feels like Seunghyun is staring right through him and every lie he’s ever told himself.

“If I kissed you right now, would you have to repent?” Seunghyun asks.

Byungyoon feels like he can’t get air in his lungs, his throat closed and chest burning as he hovers, suspended between temptation and the faith that scorches something deeper than his bones. Of course, he’d have to repent. He can’t have this. Maybe it’s the loneliness that he feels too keenly in a foreign country. Maybe it’s the intensity of Seunghyun’s stare. Maybe, maybe, maybe, excuses turn over in his head at a frantic pace even as he reaches his own hand up and hooks it around Seunghyun’s neck, tugging him down.

Their lips connect in a dry press. Fingers, careless and careful, cup his jaw and hold him steady as Seunghyun inhales and presses their lips together again, wetter as his tongue slips along Byungyoon’s bottom lip. Byungyoon’s mouth drops open on instinct and his eyes slide shut as Seunghyun deepens the kiss, his tongue warm and tasting of the bitter stink of weed. It doesn’t gross him out. It just reminds him of Sungmin.

He doesn’t know where to put his hands, but they move without his input, one curling tight in Seunghyun’s hair and another sliding down to brace against Seunghyun’s sternum almost as if he wants to push him away. Instead, his hand twists in the edges of the robe to tug him closer. Seunghyun gasps into the kiss and the chair rocks, precarious as his knees butt up against it as he slips between Byungyoon’s legs.

The danger of temptation, Byungyoon thinks, is this. One sip, one inhale, one taste, and he feels like he’s fallen headfirst into an abyss but it doesn’t scare him. He just wants more. He wants to kiss Seunghyun until his lips are red and swollen, until his own lips tingle from the way Seunghyun bites and sucks at them. If he just doesn’t pull away, if he just keeps kissing him, then he doesn’t have to resurface and think about what he’s done, what it means for his life and his faith moving forward.

He stumbles to his feet, hands coming up to frame Seunghyun’s sharp jaw as he takes the control back, towering over Seunghyun as he slips his tongue in to chase the taste of weed from his mouth. Distantly, he’s aware that he despises the taste but craves it for the reminder of Sungmin’s presence. If he gave in with Sungmin, every kiss would taste like this, or alcohol, or something else they shouldn’t be doing. But he doesn’t love Seunghyun. He can kiss them until they both pass out and it still doesn’t carry the danger of one kiss with Sungmin.

Fingers skate down his neck to rest along his collarbone, the touch fleeting as the hand continues lower. Byungyoon grabs it when it reaches his navel, sucking at Seunghyun’s tongue as he redirects it to chest again before returning his own hand to curl along Seunghyun’s neck. Seunghyun laughs against his lips.

“Can’t handle more?” he asks, breath feeling cool across Byungyoon’s spit-slicked lips.

Byungyoon swallows, throat tight, as his eyes open. Seunghyun’s gaze is just as intense as it was when they started this, like he can see right through Byungyoon’s usual expression of indifference that he wears like armor when he’s terrified. It makes his stomach curl and his knees weaken. “I don’t know.”

“That’s okay,” Seunghyun says. “Hands above the waist for now?”

Byungyoon nods before he can think about it. He wants it and he’s already given in, so stopping now isn’t going to save him, even if he’s not ready for anything more. Seunghyun’s hands slip down and then under his t-shirt, sliding along his skin with a gentle touch that makes his skin shiver and jump as he tugs the shirt off. It hits the ground and lips find his throat a moment later. With each breath, each kiss, Seunghyun walks him back towards the bed and he falls back on it when Seunghyun pushes him.

Seunghyun unties his robe and lets it fall to the floor before grabbing the neck of his shirt and tugging that up and off too. Byungyoon bites his lip down around a sound he’s too ashamed to let escape as Seunghyun straddles him before leaning down, chest to chest, every nerve ending where they touch sparking and making him want more. Seunghyun stays true to his word though. He brings their lips together, hands sliding over his chest.

He still tastes of weed and when Byungyoon slides his fingers back into his damp hair, he can see it in his head – him and Sungmin on Sungmin’s bed in the summer as the noisy as fuck fan spins in the corner, sweat soaking their hair and skin. Instead of pushing Sungmin away this time, in his memory he pulls him closer, lets Sungmin kiss him until all he can think of is him. It’s just a fantasy, something to entertain. He wonders if Seunghyun is thinking of someone else, trying to chase away the loneliness with Byungyoon’s lips and body but someone else’s face.

He wonders if that’s what being gay really is. Loneliness. Denial. Want. Losing yourself in someone else while you pine for something more. Isn’t that the problem with all sin? One taste and you want more, stuff yourself full of the sensations in a desperate attempt to fill yourself even when you’re always left empty afterwards? But would he feel empty if it was Sungmin?

Light touches trace his ribcage and then splay wide, framing the bones with a delicate touch. Byungyoon inhales, sharp, and finds himself frozen. Seunghyun’s slips slide along his jaw instead and he can feel his heart thud against his ribs, against Seunghyun’s fingers, faster and faster as his lungs burn.

“Breathe already,” Seunghyun says.

His breath rushes out in a rough exhale and Seunghyun rolls off of him. The room seems to spin, but it steadies again as he continues to breathe, though it sounds more like gasping. He doesn’t even flinch when Seunghyun grabs his hand. It doesn’t feel nice with how they’re both sweating, which must mean it’s from nerves because the cool breeze from the window makes him shiver. He doesn’t want to let go though.

“I’m…in love with Sungmin,” he says once he calms down enough to speak.

"Yeah, I know. Pretty sure he knows too,” Seunghyun says.

“Sorry.”

“I didn’t kiss you because I wanted to date. I kissed you because I’m high, and jet-lagged, and lonely, and watching you perform turns me on,” Seunghyun says. “And because you should probably know God isn’t going to damn you to hell for kissing a man.”

Byungyoon licks his lips. They still feel swollen and a little bit tingly. “I felt less lonely, but all I could think about was someone else and I…I don’t want to use you like that.”

"You’re a good dude.” Seunghyun squeezes his hand and sits up. “Come here. We’re going to cuddle.”

Byungyoon obeys, because he’s tired and everything inside him feels fragile and breakable and Seunghyun’s fingers are warm and steady as they guide him. It’s with Seunghyun at his back and his arm around his waist that he finds the courage to open up his chat with Sungmin. He stares at their last conversation. There’s nothing out of the ordinary, just their usual banter and a ‘good luck!’ just before he went on stage. He takes a deep breath.

_Byungyoon: I think I’m ready_

Seconds later, his phone chimes with a response.

_Sungmin: You mean it?_

Fingers rub up and down his chest, soothing. Byungyoon exhales.

_Byungyoon: Yeah. I mean it. _

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on Tumblr under the same name


End file.
